A STUDY IN THIRST PROVOCATION, Vol. 2

Thought Daughters Support Group

Anna O.

Thought Daughters Support Group

bedroom alt-pop, raga breaks, p-funk, funky bassline, glitch pop, psychedelic acid jazz, trap 808s

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V4.5

Sweet like Swiss Miss, 
Waits for the HISS.  
Inspect the seal, 
Says "NICE!" and means it.  
  
He acts like he won’t—or might—  
Then eats the whole damn feat  
...Me?  
Unwrap me like a vintage M.R.E.  
You warm me slow, hands shaking.  
Keep it neat, say please.  
Yeah—  
You always  
...inspect before you eat.   
 
People rush the heat,  
Yours: flameless patience.  
You check the seal  
Before you taste it.  
and I'd let you  
Inspect all of me—  
Just in case.

Watch me like recon, 
Study me like intel. 
Says I’m "thirst-provoking" gently—  
Then storms my shore like Normandy.  
Steve, baby...  
Even when it’s gross,  
It's your sweetness I love most -- no cellophane"  
  
Take a drag of that Chesterfield,  
Slide out the M.R.E., Menu 9, Beef Stew seal.  
He takes his time,  
With a grin on a goddamn mission.  
Low crawl in, sweet sniper position.

And when you talk—  
It’s like I saw God  
In a packet of orange drink .
  
You say “let’s check this out,”  
And my heart starts to sing.  
You unwrap each day  
Like it’s a sacred thing  
And honey, I’d let you  
Lick the  tray.  
  
So light the smoke, 
Inhale
and look those eyes...
Unwrap me slow, 
No need to disguise.
You’re the kind who reads  
Before the bite  
and baby—  
That’s my appetite.

There are many like it,  
But this one is mine.  
He drips his obsessions 
All over my spine, 
Info-dumps 
While he asks about mine.

So tell me about that airborne operation,  
Boiled candy,
Their malnutrition.
I’ll think ungodly things  
As your knife makes that slice. ("mm...NICE!")

Take a drag of that Chesterfield  
While the peaches congeal.
He's got a fork, a plan, and permission.  
He studies the map,  
In sniper position--  
Whispers low, it's... "for the nutrition."
  
You give Lockheed Martin,
But your hands say worship.  
Steve, you make utility  
Feel like courtship.  
  
This song’s devoted to you—  
Not for your muscles or fame.  
Your aura's hotter than an F.R.H.
It's who you are:  
How you give the lost 
A quiet little star.  
  
You don’t eat to conquer—  
You eat to learn.  
You tilt your head,  
You wait your turn.  
  
Truth is—  
The suitors out here? cruel.  
But your tenderness--  
God, it rewrites the rules.  
  
As for me?  
I just wanna study your brain,  
and maybe…  
A little parallel play.  
  
I'll keep my fantasies folded tight—  
Where you get me on a tray—  
And say “NICE!”  
Your voice explaining  
Why a little bite was okay,
While we lay in our nesting space.  
  
For now, at ease...

3049/7500

baby— you’re the calm in the operation desert storm. pull the tab— and it’s 1913 again... Got me craving your voice, whimperin' at meat in a tin. You pause before pleasure— And that’s what makes it hit. Not many men Read instructions and commit. Who knew ration life could bring Such ... delicious little things? Cigarettes and chicklets— You give me the fix Of a man who reads the leaflet Before the mix . You could serve me powdered eggs On a bayonet— And I’d say “thank you, sir,” With no regret. Sweet like Swiss Miss, Waits for the HISS. Inspect the seal, Says "NICE!" and means it. He acts like he won’t—or might— Then eats the whole damn feat ...Me? Unwrap me like a vintage M.R.E. You warm me slow, hands shaking. Keep it neat, say please. Yeah— You always ...inspect before you eat. People rush the heat, Yours: flameless patience. You check the seal Before you taste it. and I'd let you Inspect all of me— Just in case. Watch me like recon, Study me like intel. Says I’m "thirst-provoking" gently— Then storms my shore like Normandy. Steve, baby... Even when it’s gross, It's your sweetness I love most -- no cellophane" Take a drag of that Chesterfield, Slide out the M.R.E., Menu 9, Beef Stew seal. He takes his time, With a grin on a goddamn mission. Low crawl in, sweet sniper position. And when you talk— It’s like I saw God In a packet of orange drink . You say “let’s check this out,” And my heart starts to sing. You unwrap each day Like it’s a sacred thing And honey, I’d let you Lick the tray. So light the smoke, Inhale and look those eyes... Unwrap me slow, No need to disguise. You’re the kind who reads Before the bite and baby— That’s my appetite. There are many like it, But this one is mine. He drips his obsessions All over my spine, Info-dumps While he asks about mine. So tell me about that airborne operation, Boiled candy, Their malnutrition. I’ll think ungodly things As your knife makes that slice. ("mm...NICE!") Take a drag of that Chesterfield While the peaches congeal. He's got a fork, a plan, and permission. He studies the map, In sniper position-- Whispers low, it's... "for the nutrition." You give Lockheed Martin, But your hands say worship. Steve, you make utility Feel like courtship. This song’s devoted to you— Not for your muscles or fame. Your aura's hotter than an F.R.H. It's who you are: How you give the lost A quiet little star. You don’t eat to conquer— You eat to learn. You tilt your head, You wait your turn. Truth is— The suitors out here? cruel. But your tenderness-- God, it rewrites the rules. As for me? I just wanna study your brain, and maybe… A little parallel play. I'll keep my fantasies folded tight— Where you get me on a tray— And say “NICE!” Your voice explaining Why a little bite was okay, While we lay in our nesting space. For now, at ease...

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